Possession Arc: Book II: Savor the Darkness
by The Manwell
Summary: Six months have passed since Quatre’s true nature had been revealed. Now the stakes are raised as Quatre seeks out his old "friends." Angst, language, sensuality and shounen ai. (Complete)
1. One

**Author's Welcome: **Many thanks to those of you who read and reviewed _Follow the Lights._ I hope you enjoy the continuation of the _Possession Arc._

...ooo...

**Savor the Darkness**

_Part Two of the Possession Arc_

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction by The Manwell

**- One -**

**It begins** with a dream:

A feeling of warmth.

The omnipresent glow of gently brilliant light permeating every pour of the dreamer's being.

A presence drawing closer, equally warm and brilliant.

An angel.

Smiling.

Strands of pale hair sifting softly in time with an impalpable wind.

A smooth hand reaches out until the angel's fingers hover over the dreamer's forehead. Stills directly above the flesh separating the brows. It is the location of dormant power, of hidden potential, of the mystical third eye.

The dreamer sighs, already feeling blessed even though the touch which will awaken the latent insight has not been administered.

There are no words.

No sounds.

No scents.

No caresses.

Only the light.

And then the soft brush of a warm fingertip against human skin.

The dreamer's eyes close.

The light fades.

Continues to fade.

Until there is only darkness...

That night, when the inhabitants of the isolated compound had retired to their beds, they had not known. _Could_ not have known. There had been no way to anticipate the power of the presence amongst them. No way to counter its desire, its thirst, its basic, instinctual need to survive.

And in the span of one unit of darkness, it is done.

The sun rises slowly, washing the barren landscape with its breath. But no one looks out their windows to see it. No one notices the lone figure draped completely in Bedouin garments striding silently toward the main gates. No one within the desert fortress witnesses the departure of the young man. No one. Despite the fact that their eyes are open.

He does not bother to imagine the empty stares beyond the clay walls. He thinks of other things. Power. Fulfillment.

He has _Become_

The night's harvest nourishes him and he smiles, relishing the tingle and tension of the energy beneath his skin, within his muscles, vibrating his bones.

He gazes into the sight of the rising sun, tastes the feel of its warmth upon him. The power inside of him nearly splits him apart. He marvels that his flesh is enough to hold it together.

He closes his eyes for a moment and inhales deeply the reborn-air.

A breeze tugs hesitantly at his cloak. It is as if the Earth, itself, knows.

He has _Become_.

Slowly, Quatre Reberba Winner opens his eyes and begins his journey. He takes his first step toward the dawn-kissed horizon, following the light.

...ooo...

**Wufei shuts off** the car engine but does not hurry to leave the interior of the vehicle. He regards the home where his friends live and is torn between two reactions. The first is accompanied by a feeling of warm contentment: he has never seen Heero, Duo, and Trowa so happy before. Nor would he have ever guessed they could find that happiness with each other. Those three, he believes, are very lucky, indeed.

And yet...

His fingers curl tighter around the steering wheel.

And yet there are things he cannot explain. Things that, after months of conducting his own private investigation, still make absolutely no sense. He had hoped to discover the answers himself, but this is not the case. Experts had been called in. The surveillance videos had been sent out to the very best labs. The results had indicated that Trowa and Heero had not been approached by Duo at all; it had seemed as if they had abandoned their perfectly normal daily routines of their own free will.

Yet Wufei knows that explanation is grossly simplistic. Somehow, Duo had approached them and convinced them to follow him. It _had_ happened. But how had he managed it without being detected?

Naturally, Wufei wants answers. But he is not sure he is ready for them.

Something... strange had happened the day Duo had gone after Heero and Trowa. Something had prevented Cathy and her coworkers, as well as the civic center security cameras, from detecting Duo's presence.

Not for the first time, Wufei considers confronting Duo about it. But he knows he won't. Even if Wufei could comprehend the concepts involved with Duo's abilities, the subject matter itself would be far too personal. And just as Wufei knows he could never discuss the visions he receives when he meditates, he knows he would never pressure Duo into discussing the intricacies of his own craft.

The day Wufei had come to accept that he would likely never know exactly _how_ Duo had approached Trowa and Heero all those months ago, a weight had been lifted from him. But with the relief of the one, he could no longer avoid noticing his other obligation. The obligation which brings him here twice a week to train with Duo.

Wufei quickly hauls his thoughts away from that particular avenue and, with a deep, centering breath, climbs out of his car. As he approaches the large house, he does not tuck his key chain away. One-handed, he sifts through the crafted bits of metal on the ring until he is left with the key to Duo's front door. He does not bother to knock. Duo is expecting him.

He steps into the foyer – into heavy, nurturing silence. The sound of this place is always so... At a loss for a simple, accurate word to describe it, Wufei shakes his head. It seems as if the quiet of the earth has wrapped itself around this place. As if things will sprout from the silence. As if there is an invisible jungle here. It is a sensation Wufei has not yet become used to.

Wandering deeper into the house, he turns to go past the living room and the library. He bypasses the gracefully arcing spine of the staircase and hunts out the meditation room. But before he arrives at his destination, the sounds of a struggle tumble before him into the hall from the gym. He alters his course accordingly.

"Damn!" That soft exhalation is from Duo.

"You are not operating at your maximum potential, Duo." The flat scolding comes from Heero.

"When was the last time you went through your routines?" This is delivered in Trowa's soft voice.

"There're only so many hours in a day, guys."

A slight, communicative pause follows this and Wufei imagines Trowa and Heero sharing a look.

"Then perhaps you should reprioritize your time," Trowa continues. "This is important."

Duo sighs. "I know. Trust me, I _know..._"

The soft scuff of bare feet on the mat as one of the room's occupants adjusts his position precedes Heero's quiet command: "Again."

By now Wufei has pressed his hand against the door and is quietly coaxing it ajar. Gradually, the scene is revealed to him. Duo is sweaty and disheveled, his face flushed and his breaths heaving. Heero stands in front of him, calm and controlled. Trowa is behind him, silent and relaxed.

Wufei takes note of their stances and postures. His eyebrows arc in disbelief as he realizes _both_ Trowa and Heero mean to attack Duo, their Keeper. Wufei frowns, considering the puzzling fact that Duo is allowing this when he could very easily forbid it.

And then bodies are in motion. Trowa shifts first but it is Heero who strikes. They work together, alternately attempting to distract and deceive Duo while the other attacks. And they are fast. Very fast. Wufei watches the fluidity of the match and wonders to himself if even he has retained that kind of dexterity and endurance from his days of fighting with Nataku. Because it looks to him like Heero and Trowa have not only maintained their endurances but surpassed them.

Wufei observes Duo's reactions. Observes the way he will opt to block or avoid a blow rather than returning the attack. Heero is scowling at this. Trowa's expression is, as ever, subtly speculative.

It ends when Trowa manages a quick kick to the back of Duo's knee in tandem with Heero's convincing feint. The instant Duo hits the mat with his knees Trowa is behind him, immobilizing him with a lock that Duo might have been able to break on a day when he weren't so overextended.

"Duo," Heero says quietly. He approaches his housemates and kneels before Duo so that their gazes are level. "You are not taking us seriously."

Duo swallows down another gulp of air. "I am... taking you... _very_... seriously," he differs.

"Then why will you not fight us?" Trowa inquires. His grip remains firm but considering the trembling of Duo's muscles, Wufei thinks that perhaps Trowa is more holding him _up_ than holding him submissive.

"You still don't understand," Duo manages as his breaths begin to calm. "I can't fight you."

"What are you talking about?" Heero demands brusquely. "You are perfectly capable of–"

Duo shakes his head. "It's not a question of being capable. I simply _cannot_ attack you guys."

"What is stopping you?" Trowa persists.

"I... I'm not sure... The Oath, I think..." Duo pauses, takes a deep breath, and with a slight shake of the head concludes, "I'm sorry. I can't spar with you. But I _am_ still training and I _can_ still handle myself."

"You will tell us if your training is not adequate," Heero tells him. It is not a request.

In a near-whisper, Duo replies solemnly, "I took The Oath with you and Trowa. I am unable to hide any truth from either of you."

Trowa shifts his grasp and winds his arms around Duo's chest from behind. Pressed against him, he leans in and brushes his cheek against Duo's unraveling hair. Heero reaches for the youth caught unresisting in Trowa's arms and trails his fingertips along Duo's cheek. Wufei watches as Duo accepts their advances. It is a very strange moment and, were it not for the fact that he _knows_ Duo Owns both Heero and Trowa, he would have assumed the entire situation is reversed.

Confused, Wufei silently backs away from the scene and wanders into the library. He finds himself standing before the leaded glass windows overlooking the grounds and wonders what it is he has just witnessed. Is Duo not in command here? Is he not in charge of two other souls? If so, why does he permit his dependants to attack him when he can do very little to defend himself? And why does he allow them such familiarity with his body?

Wufei shakes his head in tandem with a great sigh. It is all very, very strange.

But no stranger, he supposes, than Quatre's situation. Again he recalls the image of his old comrade. The young man who is brilliant, strong, wise, intuitive... and a vampire.

Wufei tries not to dwell on this. He tries not to think of Quatre at all while he is in Duo's house. After all, his quest to contain Quatre's powers – to protect himself and others from the power the young man wields – is what brings him here. And every lesson Duo provides only feels like another betrayal.

Not for the first time, Wufei wonders why he must choose.

"Hey, Wu. Been waiting long?"

Wufei snorts, glad for a distraction. "As if you did not know the moment I arrived."

"True," Duo concedes, coming to stand beside him at the window. He mirrors Wufei's defensive posture, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring out at the autumn-crisped greenery. "I suppose I could try to explain what you witnessed back there..."

Wufei smirks. "Don't strain yourself, Maxwell. While I may not be able to comprehend the... intricacies of your life, I can understand that there are still limitations you must respect."

Duo smirks back. "That's what I love about you, man. Always so sympathetic."

Wufei almost laughs.

"So, you ready for another session?"

He almost sighs.

"I know you don't like 'em, but if Q ever needs us to stop him from hurting others we need to be ready."

"As I said, Maxwell," Wufei replies quietly, "I understand that there are limitations. That does not mean I like the fact that they exist, but I understand that they do." And with that, Wufei turns and heads for the meditation room. He passes the gym and hears the sounds of weights being lifted. The sound of water gushing through the pipes signals the use of a shower nearby.

Ordinary sounds. Life sounds.

It bewilders him that he knows so much about his friends and yet comprehends so little.

**End of Chapter One**


	2. Two

**Savor the Darkness**

**-Two-**

**"Sir,** I am not receiving a response to our hails."

Rashid scowls at the shuttle controls before him. Many of the Maguanaqs accompanying him on his journey cannot see the expression but they can acutely sense their leader's frustration.

"What are the readings on the runway?" he inquires after a moment of thought.

A third member of the group consults the instrumentation before him. "All clear, sir."

Attempting to squash the disquiet bubbling beneath his sternum, Rashid declares, "Continue with landing procedures."

As the others occasionally shout out a course correction or engine boost adjustment, Rashid holds the yoke steady and wonders why his old allies are not responding to their calls. He wonders at the subtle changes he has sensed amongst the Bedouin. He wonders about Master Quatre...

"Touchdown in five... four... three..."

A moment and a half later, the wheels make contact with the soft, shifting sand. Rashid fights to keep the wheels from twisting in the malleable matter.

"Sir! Engines are overheating!"

Rashid orders his copilot to cut back on the reverse engines as quickly as he can. But still, the engines scream and shriek until the ship rolls to a gentle coast. The engines grind painfully as they subside into silence. It is a telling sound. As is the continued silence that greets them from the fortress.

Quickly, Rashid organizes the men. One team will stay with the shuttle and attempt to determine the extent of the damage the overabundance of sand has caused to the engines. The second team will accompany him to the fortress.

As the Maguanaqs prepare for their respective tasks, Rashid regards the profile of the fortress against the afternoon sky. Although the structure is intended to block all signs of the life within from unwelcome eyes, he is further agitated by the fact that no one appears to be coming out to greet them. And, if their communications array had been malfunctioning, surely they would have sent a messenger on foot.

"No one is coming to meet us," Abdul notes very quietly. His words reach Rashid and go no further but the leader knows that all of the men must be thinking this.

Rashid nods. "Perhaps they are in need of assistance. We should be prepared for anything."

Abdul nods and turns to communicate the orders to the rest of the Maguanaqs. Rashid continues to stare out at the fortress and sends a silent prayer out into the bright void, _Be__ safe, Master Quatre. I have finally returned with the aid I'd promised so please be safe..._

...ooo...

**"You're taking** to this much faster than I did," Duo expounds with a smile that isn't as bright as Wufei remembers. "You never told me you were a quick study, Wu."

As they depart from the meditation room, Wufei studies the slight lines of strain around Duo's mouth and eyes and feels a twinge of concern. "Maxwell."

Duo continues, perhaps attempting to distract Wufei from his observations, "Of course, I probably should have figured that out. I mean, you put yourself into a trance on the moon when they shut off our oxygen, so I already _knew_ you have exceptional self-discipline..."

"Maxwell."

"I was really impressed when you did that, by the way. I don't think I ever told you..."

"Maxwell!"

"What!"

Wufei reaches out and catches Duo's elbow. He turns the young man to face him and settles his hands on Duo's shoulders. "What is wrong, my friend?"

"Wrong?" Duo replies and his confusion seems genuine.

Wufei observes quietly, "You are tired. Are Heero and Trowa not allowing you to rest? Shall we postpone these lessons until next week?"

Duo grins crookedly at his friend. "Naw, the guys are taking care of me and our sessions really aren't that taxing. I... I think it has something to do with my sleep cycles. Ever since I... well... _acquired_ Heero and Trowa I just haven't been able to rest very well. My R.E.M. sleep is off, I think."

Wufei hesitates to mention the first thing that comes to his mind. "Do you think it... could be Quatre?"

Duo shakes his head and lets out a long breath. "No, it's not Quatre. But I worry about him."

"As do I."

"I'm sorry, Wufei."

With a startled frown, Wufei asks, "For what?"

"For coming for you last. I... I really thought that with your ability to close yourself off and go into a trance that you'd be able to withstand Quatre the best. It... it never occurred to me that in order to go into a trance you have to open yourself up."

Touched by Duo's deep concern for a former comrade and feeling a little guilt over Duo's quiet pain, he says, "But we made it through, didn't we?"

This time, when Duo smiles, the results a much more satisfying. "Yeah, we did." Duo draws in a steadying breath and nods in the direction of the library. "Well, we'd better see what kinds of trouble those two have found."

Wufei chuckles and they continue toward their destination. Neither of them are surprised when they open the door to find both young men at their respective computers.

"What's up, guys? Another assignment?"

Heero nods. Trowa continues scanning the data on his screen.

Wufei grins wryly. "Who would have thought the three of you could find a way to get paid _legitimately_ for breaking into high security facilities."

"Hey," Duo replies with a shrug, "_somebody's_ gotta test out the new systems these companies come up with." He wanders over to Trowa and leans over the young man's shoulder to glance at the assignment. "Oh, hey, Zanoah is ready for us again? It's only been about a month since we last tested their security." Duo smirks. "Must have been working around the clock. We'll see if they got it right this time, shall we?"

Trowa's lips twitch. Heero openly smirks. Neither man glances up from his pc screen.

"Looks like we may have to postpone those lessons anyway, Wu."

Wufei shrugs. "That's fine." He then regards his other friends. By way of farewell, he tells them, "Heero. Trowa. I expect you to look after him and make sure he gets plenty of rest. He needs it."

"Of course," Trowa replies blandly, glancing up at Wufei with a smile in his eyes.

Heero merely grunts as if Wufei's words were a foregone conclusion. With one last nod in parting, Wufei sees himself to the door. Behind him he can hear the soft murmurs of his friends as they discuss their next assignment.

As he opens the door and follows the path down to the driveway, Wufei wonders at the aftermath of his friends' strange relationship. Duo had anticipated the transition from being completely self-reliant and independent to living and working as cohesive unit to be much more challenging that it actually had. Rather quickly, they had pooled their finances, found a house that suited their tastes, and developed a means of maintaining their lifestyle that is reasonably satisfying to each of them.

And they never had to spend a day apart from each other unless desired.

Wufei shakes his head and slides in behind the wheel of the car. Perhaps there are more fortunate people in the universe, but if there are Wufei does not know them.

...ooo...

**Rashid stares** into one of the many the quiet rooms within the fortress. But it differs from the others in that it is empty.

And that it had once been Master Quatre's.

His soul is heavy with the presence of failure. He had arrived too late.

He leans against the doorway and listens to the approaching footsteps of one of his men. Before the other man can speak, Rashid asks, "Did you find anything?"

Abdul shakes his head. "They're all dead, sir. Killed in their sleep, it seems like."

Softly, Rashid exhales a breath that would have been a curse had his religion not strongly discouraged such vulgar displays. The warm weight of a hand on his shoulder eases a bit of the guilt and pain as it becomes a shared emotion between them.

"We will find him," Abdul promises. "And we will protect him."

Rashid nods.

"Come on," Abdul urges. "There's still much we can do here while Mohammed's team works on clearing the sand from the engines."

At these words Rashid straightens. Even though his haste to return to Master Quatre had led him to use a shuttle not equipt for the sands of his homeland, even though that decision will cost them a cosiderable amount of time, that time need not be wasted. "We must locate the other Gundam pilots."

Abdul offers up a sad grin. "I've already got someone on it, sir."

Rashid nods and wonders where the young Winner heir is. Wonders if he's safe. Wonders if he will turn tothe other pilots in this time of great unrest. Wonders if he still trusts them that much. The tall Maguanaq has so very many questions yet the only reply he receives is the eerie silence of the tombs.

...ooo...

**Things have changed.**

The blond haired youth narrows his eyes at the computer screen before him. Thus far he has confirmed that Trowa is no longer traveling with the circus. Heero has resigned from the Preventers. And all research indicates that Duo no longer offers his services as a pilot-for-hire. The information predating Quatre's departure is simple enough to find. But now... Well, it is as if all three of them have ceased to exist.

Quatre leans back against the seat tucked away in the far corner of the public library and allows a tiny grin to play at the corners of his mouth.

It's not as if he'd expected this to be easy. Especially with three former Gundam pilots pooling their knowledge and resources. And possibly more...

But some things have _not_ changed.

Like Chang Wufei.

Still an agent with the Preventers.

Still struggling with his role in this new world.

Still alone.

Yes, some things do not change.

Now, just as during the war, Wufei will be the one to decide the fate of many. In maintaining his solidarity, he retains the ability to affect the greatest change. And the one to gain the allegiance of the last of the Dragon Clan will hold the power to turn the tides in his favor.

Quatre smiles as he decides his course of action.

**End of Chapter Two**


	3. Three

**Author's Note:** A big, huge "Thank You!" to my reviewers thus far - Sakusha and Memeal.

**Savor the Darkness**

**-Three-**

**Duo doesn't stay** mad at Wufei's rather domineering parting comment. _Really, what's the point?_ Duo silently grouses as he lowers himself into the nearest chair. He knows he's been operating at lower than optimal levels lately, still... Chang hadn't needed to point it out so obviously.

So caught up in his disgruntlement, Duo doesn't notice the shift in the room around him until gentle fingertips press into his temples. Almost immediately, the dark glower he'd been unaware of glaring eases. Opening his eyes, Duo watches as Heero takes a seat on the ottoman in front him and wraps his warm hands around Duo's left calf.

"He must think we're blind," Trowa comments from behind Duo where he smoothes firm circles into Duo's temples and scalp with his fingertips.

"Or stupid," Heero replies, gently kneading the location of an old war injury on Duo's leg.

A lopsided smile plays along Duo's lips as he finds himself on the verge of defending the very person he'd been irritated with a moment ago. "Eh, you know Wufei. He gets snarky when he's worried."

"He shouldn't _be_ worried in the first place," Heero comments.

From behind him, Trowa softly requests, "Are you going to tell us what's wrong?"

Duo finds it hard to resist the firm, affectionate ministrations of his Owned let alone that hypnotic voice. But he does. "Jeez, guys. It's cool. I'd figured it would take a while to get through this adjustment phase –"

"It's been nearly six _months_, Duo," Heero admonishes.

"And you haven't answered the question," Trowa points out.

Giving into the inevitable, Duo dredges up some sort of reply to the original concern. "There's nothing wrong, Tro. In fact, everything is perfect." With a sigh, he admits, "I never thought I'd say this, but you guys were right. We really are making this work."

Heero sends him a look that clearly shouts "I told you so" while Trowa replies with: "You know us too well to doubt us, Duo."

"Hmm," Duo agrees, sinking into the relaxing warmth of the attention his tired, tensed-up body is receiving. He's so engrossed with the pleasant fuzzy sensations settling over his brain that he almost doesn't sense the moment Heero meets Trowa's eyes in meaningful silence.

The massages stop but Duo doesn't protest. He listens to the soft sounds of Heero rising from the ottoman and stepping forward. He sighs but leans into the other man's strong chest as Heero gathers him into his arms and stands. God, he hates getting put to bed like some truculent toddler, but Duo doesn't argue. He soaks up Heero's warmth and scent as Trowa precedes them up the stairs and into their shared room.

Five steps inside the threshold, Heero settles both himself and his burden on the wide bed. Duo allows himself to relax as Heero's fingers smooth through his bangs, combing them back from his face while Trowa deals with his shoes. A moment later, Duo finds himself reclining against Heero's chest as Trowa begins a deep massage on his feet. For an instant, Duo feels a little guilty that his Owned have to take care of him like this... But then Heero wraps his arms around Duo and collects his right hand. Duo sighs in pleasure as Heero gently runs his fingertips over Duo's hand and between his fingers. The combination of warmth, affection, massage, and caress lull him into slumber before he can mutter even a token protest.

...ooo...

**Trowa lifts his** gaze from Duo's sock-clad feet and meets Heero's tense expression. He easily recognizes the young man's scowl as one of serious concern. And, just as easily, he knows Heero can read his own sad look. Something is wrong – very wrong – with Duo, but neither knows exactly what it is. They'd tried subtle suggestions, direct questions, and badgering. They shouldn't have had to. Through their bond, they should have been able to _know_ what troubles their Keeper. Duo had told them that The Oath would not permit secrets or lies between them. But if this is neither a secret nor a lie, then what is it?

As Trowa asks himself this, a slight shiver passes through him accompanied by another possibility. "What if he doesn't know?" he suggests softly to Heero.

The young man's blue eyes return to their sleeping companion and a whole new level of concern is added to the cocooning silence. "Or lies to himself," he whispers.

For a moment, the quiet accompanies them in their thoughts. Each considers bringing up the accusation, estimates the effect of such a confrontation. Again, their gazes meet.

"It's too close to an assignment," Trowa whispers.

Heero agrees but declares, "We'll deal with this when we get back. There'll be no more assignments until we've sorted this out."

Trowa nods. "But for now, he's going to need our support."

Heero sighs and leans toward Duo in order to brush a kiss against the man's hair.

Trowa's hands rub gently at the appendage in his grasp. "We won't lose him," he promises.

Suddenly irritated, Heero demands, "Then why did we choose this profession? This time tomorrow we're going to be infiltrating one of the United Earth Sphere's most secure government compounds. The guards aren't going to give us any quarter. They're going to be using standardized firearms. Possibly night vision equipment –"

"Heero," Trowa says softly, interrupting the unchecked flow of increasingly anxious words. "Do you want to cancel the contract? Duo still has his shuttle. We could get into the cargo business..." Trowa allows his voice to trail off as Heero shakes his head with a heavy sigh.

Trowa doesn't need the other man to tell him what's on his mind. "I know," he murmurs. "Piloting can't possibly compare to the way it is when we're on a mission."

Through trial and error, the three of them had discovered that their connection varies in intensity depending on the task. Dangerous missions had opened them up to each other to such an extent that they could almost read each other's minds, anticipate each other's motions, compensate for each other's limitations. It is the finest symphony Trowa has ever discovered.

"He asks for so little from us," Heero finally replies softly. His fingertips trail gently over the outer edge of Duo's ear. "And he loves the assignments."

Trowa silently concurs. He returns his attention to Duo's lanky body and thinks that, perhaps, he has some idea of the fine line Duo walks every day balancing the happiness of his charges against their safety.

"I don't envy him," Heero says.

Trowa almost winces at the sudden ache in his chest as he considers Duo Maxwell, his abilities, his youth, and his incredible responsibilities.

"We'll keep him safe."

Heero's arms tighten slightly around Duo's shoulders in reply. Trowa feels the same. There is nothing shy of death that would be capable of stopping either himself or Heero Yuy from protecting the one person who has brought such deep caring and hope into their lives. Before Duo, they had done little more than endure life. Now, they laugh at it, immerse themselves in it, and savor it.

Duo had given this to them when no one else had. When no one else had been _capable_ of offering this to them. Both Heero and Trowa know that if there ever comes a time when they will have to pay for Duo's gift, they will. Whatever the price, it could not be anything other than a bargain.

Well and truly asleep, Duo sighs deeply. The following inhalation draws Trowa from the foot of the bed until he's stretched out beside the long-haired man. He slides an arm around Duo's waist and nudges his calf with a knee. Thus bracketing Duo with the warmth of their limbs and torsos, both Heero and Trowa close their eyes and allow themselves to rest.

...ooo...

**He hasn't slept** in days.

He doesn't need to. The energy he'd stolen from his captors still hums pleasantly through his body.

Arms folded over his chest and his legs crossed, Quatre frowns behind his dark sunglasses. The rhythm of the subway train – normally so soothing – cannot ease the sharp rage that ignites when he thinks of his most recent sojourn in the desert.

_Fools, all of them,_ he criticizes in perfect silence. He doesn't know how many times he's both thought the same thing of his "benefactors" and hidden it behind a mask of innocence. Too many to count.

They'd tried to train him in the use of his powers. And Quatre had played along, allowing them to think they'd been making progress. Feeding their delusions of control.

Control. What an absurd and naïve notion. If it hadn't been absolutely imperative to play the part of the frightened and overwhelmed disciple, Quatre would have laughed out loud every time he found himself entertaining that particular thought. For months he'd hidden his true intentions and his true progress in accepting the powers within. Months of constant falsehoods.

His glare morphs into an easy smirk.

Those pathetic idiots hadn't known the meaning of the word "control."

Through the darkened lenses, Quatre sends his gaze roving over the other passengers on board. Just beneath his skin the power shifts restlessly, the hard contours of its anguineous body rolling against his flesh.

_Want..._

For a moment, Quatre considers indulging the impulse. He considers an exercise in both selecting and carefully skimming off the energies of his prey. It would be interesting to know exactly how proficient his is. He stares at a collection of college students at the end of the car and wonders if he could vary the consumption for each one. Does he have the power to selectively drain one person in a group? Or even to drain each member at a different pace? Or even kill one, leave another unaffected, and enhance the energies of a third until the unsuspecting youth is gasping with sudden orgasmic pleasure?

Hm. Interesting.

_Very _interesting.

_Want!_

The train begins to decelerate and Quatre watches the small group move toward the doors. The power hisses within him. Desires.

The doors sigh open and the students depart blissfully unaware of how close they'd come to being hunted.

The power seethes in response to being denied and Quatre smiles softly to himself. Oh, yes, he would love to test his abilities. But not yet.

He is careful to keep the stolen energy tightly sealed within him. He is just as careful with placating his thirst for more. If the Bedouin had been able to sense his gift all those years ago when it had still been in its harmless fledgling stage, then there may be others. And while it might be a bit of fun to play with ambitious empaths who might approach him and attempt to use him, Quatre honestly doesn't have the time. He must proceed quickly if the first phase of his plans is to be implemented.

Leaning his head back, Quatre watches the dark blur of the tunnel whisper past and waits for his stop.

**End of Chapter Three**

Glossary:

Anguineous – (adj.) snake-like. (Taken from "The Word Lover's Dictionary" by Josefa Heifetz)


	4. Four

**Savor the Darkness**

**-Four-**

**"Sir, we've found something."**

Rashid lifts his head from where he'd been cradling it in his hands as Ahmed's softly spoken statement reaches him. Not a little putout at being discovered in such an exhausted state, Rashid quickly pulls himself together.

"What is it?" he asks automatically. To his surprise, the other man hesitates.

"I'm... not sure. Just... just come and see."

Frowning, Rashid follows the other man from the table in banquet hall where he'd been contemplating various maps and encoded messages recovered from the desert fortress's communications room. Every few hours, Abdul passes by the banquet hall and delivers the most recent finds. It's the only room in the fortress with enough table space for such a massive jigsaw puzzle.

After a moment, Rashid recognizes the route Ahmed is taking and his scowl deepens. He remains silent, however, until he finds himself hovering on the threshold of Master Quatre's room once more. Unable to imagine what Ahmed's team has found that he himself had not seen earlier, Rashid glances pointedly around the room, pausing to study the nervous faces of his fellow Maguanaqs, and arcs a brow at his guide.

Ahmed gestures to the eastern window.

Without preamble, Rashid approaches the specified casement and looks out across the dusty sea. It is late evening and the sun is now behind him casting its red-gold breath over the world. He strains his eyes to see what his fellows have found so unnerving, but is disappointed.

"Not out there," Ahmed says softly. "Look on the frame."

Rashid retreats a half a step and scans the masonry lining the window itself... and stiffens. In precise, neat calligraphy he instantly identifies as Master Quatre's, Rashid recognizes seven words painstakingly carved into the clay. The message reads:

_Duo Maxwell is in danger. Find him._

...ooo...

**"Hey, you're looking** bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning!"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Wufei sleepily growls at the vidphone beside his bed, "Maxwell..."

Over the line, Duo chuckles.

Wufei ignores him and rolls onto his back among the badly rumpled sheets. "What are you doing calling me at..." He checks the alarm clock. "...five in the morning..." He mentally gropes for the date. "...on a _Sunday?_" Wufei grumps in a weary tone, "Aren't you supposed to be on assignment?"

"Not for another thirty-seven minutes according to Heero's itinerary."

Wufei groans softly, knowing he'll be amused later at Yuy's intensive planning tendencies. But for now, he sighs and rolls toward the screen. Forcing his bleary eyes open, he murmurs, "Can't sleep?"

"Yeah," Duo admits, running a hand over his neat braid. "I'm sorry I woke you, Wu, I just..."

Slightly more conscious than he had been a moment ago, Wufei studies the pallor of Duo's skin and the exhaustion-induced bruises beneath his eyes. "Duo? Are you feeling all right?"

The man laughs. "I look that bad, huh?"

"Yeah," Wufei replies mercilessly. "You do." He pauses, momentarily debating deepening the conversation. But realizes rather quickly that the discussion is out of his hands. Had been since he'd answered Duo's call. Quietly, he invites, "Would you care to talk about it?"

"Hm? No, no that's all right, man."

Affecting a wry expression, Wufei inquires, "Then may I ask what the purpose of your call is?"

Duo's expression softens. "I just wanted to tell you that it's not your fault, Wufei."

"Duo?" Wufei frowns at the vidscreen.

"Look after Quatre for me. He needs you."

A wave of anxiety unfurls within Wufei at the sound of Duo's words which sound suspiciously like a farewell. Breathless, Wufei hears himself whisper, "Duo?"

"Take care of yourself, Wu. Later." An instant later, the vidscreen succumbs to darkness.

With a snarled curse and a surge of adrenalin, Wufei throws back his bedclothes...

... and flinches at the late morning sun streaming through his bedroom window. Chest heaving and body shivering with sweat, he blinks this unexpected world into focus. Instinctively, Wufei gropes for something solid in the midst of his confusion. His gaze lands on the clock at his bedside and everything in him freezes.

10:56

A second wave of adrenalin sends him in search of his vidphone. He has to call Duo. He has to make sure he's all right...

But there is no vidphone in the room.

And then he remembers.

Of course there's no vidphone in the room. He'd been attempting some upgrades on it for the last three evenings. Currently, it is sitting in a dismantled pile on his kitchen table. The only _functional_ vidphone in the apartment resides in his office.

And then, as Wufei replays the disturbing tableau, he realizes that the only way he could have had that conversation with Duo would have been through a dream... or a vision.

"Fuck!"

That single word encapsulates all of Wufei's aggravation with his infrequent and often exasperatingly vague visions. What disturbs him more than the finality in Duo's voice is the uncertainty of the conversation's symbolic accuracy.

Hands fisted in the blanket, Wufei nearly tosses it onto the floor. Nearly. The voice coming from his open doorway manages to distract him.

"I don't recall you using that kind of language six months ago, Wufei."

His frustration evaporates, abandoning him to the labored pounding of his heart. He lifts his gaze to the threshold and takes in the sight of a very satisfied-looking young man leaning against the doorframe. Dressed in a pair of multi-pocketed khakis and a tight, powder blue T-shirt, Quatre Winner barely resembles the young man Wufei had intermittently fought a war beside.

Those light blue eyes flash with dark humor as he drinks in Wufei's stunned silence. "I'm sure you're wondering how I got in here, but let's discuss that once we're on the road, shall we?"

Still not quite over his shock – still not sure if he should be concerned over Duo's last words let alone Quatre's sudden appearance – Wufei hears himself snap, "You think I'm going somewhere with you?" Because he has no intention of going anywhere until he's spoken to Duo...

Not taking his gaze off of Quatre, Wufei gropes for his cell phone and punches in his friends' number. He endures Quatre's amused smilet as he endures each ring. When the impersonal, pre-programmed male voice asks him to leave a message, he barks, "It's Wufei. Call me." It requires a massive effort on Wufei's part to keep himself from crushing the phone in his fist once it has snapped shut.

Quatre unfolds his arms from across his chest and braces himself in the doorway. "If you want to find Duo before it's too late, you will." A slow smile curves the blond man's lips. "You _will _need my help, Wufei."

"I know no such thing," he growls before he can edit his words.

From the doorway, Quatre smirks. "I think you do."

With an effort, Wufei bites back the harsh reply his swirling confusion offers up. Exerting all of his tact, he manages somewhat calmly, "I saw Duo recently. He was fine. What are you doing here?"

"Duo is in danger, Wufei."

"Danger?" Wufei parrots as the sight before him really starts to sink in. He's startled to realize that this self-possessed, dangerous man in his doorway is, in fact, Quatre Winner. He stumbles through a moment of disbelief at the changes in his old comrade.

"Yes, _danger._ It's a concept that, as a Preventer agent, you ought to be well versed on." Quatre glares at him for a moment before challenging in a soft tone, "Are you coming with me or not?"

Still unable to establish his equilibrium in Quatre's presence, Wufei reacts emotionally, "Are you going to tell me exactly what sort of danger you think Duo is in?"

Quatre's eyes narrow. "Are you really going to sit there and tell me you don't _know_ when _you_ helped create this situation in the first place?"

Aghast at the accusation and cold tone in which it had been delivered, Wufei gasps, _"What?"_

"Your investigation into the bizarre events of six months ago. Did you really think that the people who evaluated your evidence wouldn't talk? Did you really think the experts you enlisted would be perfectly content keeping a secret like this?"

Wufei wracks his brain for any sign of the media capitalizing on his investigation. "The news reports haven't –"

With a growl of disgust, Quatre strides into the room and tosses open the wardrobe. Selecting the first outfit at hand, he throws it at Wufei's chest. "There are people who pay even more than the media for information on weapons like Duo."

"Weapons? Duo?" Wufei repeats in a voice that is too shocked to properly convey the inquiry.

"We'll discuss this in transit," Quatre promises. His gaze travels over Wufei's bare chest for a moment before continuing, "Now are you going to get dressed or do I have to dress you personally?"

Hands fisting again, Wufei growls, "The last time I saw you, you nearly killed me. Give me one reason to trust you, Winner."

"All right," Quatre replies, "and since I'm feeling magnanimous today I'll throw in a second. First: you don't want anything... _permanent_ to happen to Duo and the longer you sit around here, the greater the chances of that occurring. And second: I've never knowingly betrayed you. _Any_ of you. And considering the fact that I've been able to control my empathy for months now, I _won't _betray you, unintentionally or otherwise."

Wufei watches in wary, numb silence as Quatre retreats to the living room beyond. Only once the young man has removed his overwhelming presence from his sight can Wufei's scrambled thoughts attempt to catch up to the morning's events.

First and foremost, he considers the dream. He feels very strongly that he should not ignore it; his instinct tells him that he should not completely discount his "conversation" with Duo. _Something_ is wrong.

Still, how uncanny is it that he would wake up to Quatre Winner standing in his doorway informing him of Duo's precarious safety? Uncanny or something more? Wufei wonders at the probability of this situation simply being a coincidence. But then, Quatre hadn't been their most gifted strategist during the wars for nothing...

Considering all of this, can he be trusted?

Wufei doesn't know.

In fact, he's not even sure he still knows Quatre; the last half a year had certainly changed him – _hardened_ him. Wufei fights back a shiver.

Still... dare he let Quatre out of his sight now that the vampire is here?

Closing his eyes, Wufei surrenders to the fact that this is the moment he and Duo had been training for: Quatre's return. He is obligated to do everything within his power to keep Quatre from hurting others.

So, really, offer of assistance or not, Wufei has no choice. He needs to confirm Duo's safety and Quatre absolutely has to accompany him.

"Wufei, I'm not hearing any buttons or zippers moving. Do I need to make good on my offer to dress you personally?"

His eyes snap open at that smooth drawl. Scowling, Wufei tosses the hanger aside and pulls the shirt on over his head. A few moments later – slacks and socks in place – he reaches for his sport jacket... but not before securing the leather straps of his shoulder holster in place beneath it.

...ooo...

**"You've received confirmation?"**

"Yes, ma'am, we have. Maxwell's team sent us a reply within the specified twenty-four hours."

"Excellent." A knowing pause follows. "I don't suppose they offered any clues as to when they'll be making an appearance?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am."

"Ah, well. It matters little. Any further news on Winner's sudden disappearance?"

"The Maguanaqs have not left the compound. Winner does not appear to be with them. We are currently monitoring their communications."

"Inform me of any changes in their activities."

"Yes, ma'am."

The pause that follows is thick with satisfaction. "Are the teams assembled?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then begin the briefing. I want this to go _very_ smoothly."

"Of course, ma'am."

As the sounds of retreating footsteps echo in the office, a woman leisurely turns in her chair to regard the surrounding landscape through the darkened window. She considers the bleak, desolate land and feels a thrill of anticipation accompanied by a shadow of fear.

In the years since peace had finally seeped into the blood, oil, and gun powder soaked ground, there have been no significant threats. No weapons of any power had been unveiled.

Until recently.

She steeples her fingers and frowns out at the setting sun. She wonders if the engineers who had designed the Gundams had known – or even suspected – the existence of an even greater weapon within their grasp. And now within _her_ grasp.

She smiles at the harsh world beyond her window and allows herself a deep breath. The game is set. The players in motion. She has only to wait for the next move.

Speaking of... perhaps she'd better check in on the briefing to be sure that her people are ready for this challenge. After all, she hadn't earned this command by leaving things up to chance. And she isn't about to start now.

**End of Chapter Four**

Glossary:

Smilet – (n.) a small grin or smile Taken from "The Word Lover's Dictionary" by Josefa Heifetz


	5. Five

**Author's Note:** After reading Memeal and Sakusha's enthusiastic reviews, I decided to try to edit and post this chapter a little sooner than I'd planned. Besides, my internet connection isn't being a total turd today. Bonus.

**Savor the Darkness**

**- Five -**

**Heero Yuy surreptitiously** glances at his Keeper as the young man pulls on his tailored, black half gloves. Not for the first time, he feels a strange tug in his solar plexus and wonders if he should have even told Duo about the assignment. He could have immediately replied with a negative response and no one would have known it had even come. But he hadn't. Perhaps he hadn't even been able to. Heero knows how much Duo loves the way it tests his skills. He knows how much Trowa needs the perfect concert of their teamwork. He knows how much he thirsts to conquer his training, to use his skills for what _he_ chooses, not what headquarters dictates.

For Duo, it's the challenge.

For Trowa, it's the harmony.

For Heero, it's the freedom.

With an inaudible sigh, Heero knows he couldn't have sent off a refusal without telling the others. Frustrated at his inability to solve Duo's exhaustion with a simple, enforced holiday, Heero glares out at the dirt track he's currently navigating. And blinks in surprise when a hand touches his shoulder. Trowa offers him this moment of consolation from where he sits in the back, and offers it to the shoulder furthest from Duo. A gentle squeeze loosens Heero's tension and the hand withdraws. Duo does not appear to have sensed the moment of communication between his two concerned charges.

"Why are you bothering?" Heero says with a nod to Duo's gloved hands. "We won't be there for hours."

Duo leans back in his seat and chuckles. The motion and sound draws Heero's gaze to the young man's exposed throat. "Why not?" Duo challenges. "These gloves have a certain... appeal, don't you think?" The last phrase is drawn out in a drawl that makes Heero's fingers tighten violently around the wheel to prevent him from touching Duo. Normally, he wouldn't stop himself, but the terrain is rather uneven and getting tossed out of an all-terrain vehicle would certainly put a damper on things.

Grin widening, Duo points out, "I notice you're not disagreeing with me." He rolls his head toward the operator of the vehicle and offers up a gaze that sparkles with warmth. Then, tilting his head back again, he speaks to the man in the back seat, "And neither are you."

Heero smirks at Trowa's reply: "What's to argue with? Although 'appeal' might not be the word I was thinking of."

"Oh?" Duo inquires.

Trowa leans forward until he can speak directly into Duo's ear and whispers a single word. Although the act seems to indicate Trowa had desired for it to be a private moment between himself and Duo, his whispered suggestion is uttered loud enough for Heero to catch.

In reply, Heero snorts. "Well," he muses aloud, "I have been known to say our situation _is_ better that sex or your money back..."

Trowa chuckles and Duo tosses out a laugh. Proud of his successful attempt at levity, Heero hopes it's an indication of how the remainder of this mission will proceed. He doesn't bother to hide his smile as Duo and Trowa try to recreate the stunned look they'd witnessed on Wufei's face when Heero had first delivered that famous line. The results are hardly accurate, but they are rather amusing.

Relaxing further into his seat, Heero stops agonizing over whether or not he'd made the right choice in telling Duo about the assignment. He and Trowa had been right: Duo lives for this. And Heero does not have the desire to deprive Duo of anything that makes him laugh.

...ooo...

**The man** in his living room moves with an efficient, deliberate conservation of movement that the Quatre Winner of a few months ago had never quite managed. Wufei's eyes follow every motion of this older, sharper version of his friend as he studies everything in the room. Wufei doesn't delude himself into thinking Quatre is unaware of his presence. And in the next instant it's confirmed.

"Are you ready to go?"

"No," Wufei states flatly.

Quatre seems unsurprised by this. "You require some sort of explanation?"

"You know me so well," Wufei quips darkly.

To his surprise, Quatre actually chuckles at that. Once upon a time, the young man would have offered something placating or diplomatic in response. Instead, he responds with, "What part of 'in transit' is proving too complex for your logical faculties to digest?"

"Why haven't I received word from the Bedouin that you'd... concluded your visit?"

Quatre sends him a sidelong glance at his careful choice of words. The expression is so out of character for his old friend that Wufei is momentarily taken aback. "When did you learn to be so diplomatic, Chang?"

"When did you learn to be so obnoxious?"

"Natural talent, I assure you."

"The question," Wufei reminds him tersely. "Answer it."

Finally turning away from the view beyond the room's balcony doors, Quatre lifts his gaze to Wufei's and says, "No one called you because there was no one capable of operating a vidphone." Turning toward the pair of framed photographs arranged on the mantle over the propane fireplace, Quatre continues, "And before you ask what happened to them, let's just consider my true nature combined with my contempt for megalomaniacs and I think you'll have a rough idea."

"Megalomaniacs? The Bedouin?" Wufei frowns. "What exactly happened there, Quatre?"

Clearly more interested in the photographs than the subject of their discussion, Quatre inquires, "Do you really want to know?"

Wufei opens his mouth to snap out an affirmative, but curbs his automatic response. He takes a moment to consider the information he's requested before saying flatly, "Yes."

"Then answer my question first."

Instantly on his guard, Wufei nods once. "Fine."

A single pale finger traces the surface of one photograph in particular. "Why do you still have this photograph of the two of us sitting out?"

Startled, Wufei doesn't reply immediately and Quatre takes the opportunity to describe it out loud.

"Last Halloween we went out to that karaoke bar and all of you conspired to get me stupid drunk and make me sing. I remember Heero stole Duo's camera and took this picture after I'd accosted everyone's ears. I could barely walk; you had to go fetch me down from the platform."

Wufei does not need Quatre's words to remember either that night or the photograph. Some portion of his every day is spent contemplating his image's tolerant smile as he holds Quatre's body tucked securely against his side. The boyish grin lighting Quatre's features is a permanent resident in Wufei's memory.

"The only other photograph you have out is of all five of us," Quatre points out, blatant curiosity entering his voice.

Somewhat disoriented by the memory, Wufei tells him, "It's there because I've missed you. And because I don't want to forget who you used to be."

"Who I used to be..." Quatre repeats softly. His voice almost sounds sad. "It seems like you've given up on me."

Wufei finds himself the recipient of that guileless blue stare and has to make an effort to swallow. "Should I?"

One corner of Quatre's mouth curves softly upward. Diplomatically, that is all he offers in lieu of a reply. With a nod toward the assortment of wallet, keys, and badge resting on the kitchen table, Quatre says, "I'll tell you about the Bedouin in the car."

Wufei opens his mouth to protest but those blue eyes forestall his words with a hard glare.

"It's a long story," the blonde promises before moving toward the door.

Scooping up his belongings, Wufei determinedly follows. He tries to ignore the ache that dealing with this new Quatre has induced. He tries to ignore the fact that his old friend is gone. Changed. It's strange but he'd never really considered how much he'd miss Winner's innocence and optimism. But then, one never misses such things until they are gone.

Wufei forces back the crushing guilt that accompanies the knowledge that once again he has failed someone he should have protected.

...ooo...

**_Pain._**

Six months ago, he would have collapsed under the sudden, blinding pressure that had erupted throughout his body, but Duo doesn't even flinch as he deftly buckles the utility pack in place around his calf. Straightening again, he frowns at the slight tremor in his fingers.

Weakness is not acceptable.

He reaches back into the rear compartment of the vehicle and removes one of the custom-designed firearms and secures it in the holster snugged against his ribcage. This ritual is one he can complete automatically so he allows himself a moment to assess his condition.

The random, but not unexpected, moment of agony has left his muscles aching. The long-ago damaged tissues in his left calf twitch with exhaustion. Six months ago, he would have pitched himself into the backseat of the all-terrain vehicle and slept for eighteen hours.

But he is needed.

The concerns of his Owned do not permit this. Heero requires Duo to be strong. Trowa requires that he be in control.

Duo secures a spare clip of tranquilizers to his belt and marvels at the contradictions within his own body. He knows he is in pain, but due to Heero's determination he does not feel it. He knows he is exhausted, but because of Trowa's unease he does not notice it. And he knows the reason: The Oath.

He has suspected, for some time that their bond is not nearly as simple as it had seemed. But until this precise moment, he hadn't actually _felt_ the needs of his Owned calling to him like a palpable caress. He hadn't _realized_ that every time his body attempts to defy their wishes for his health and safety he calls upon seemingly endless resources of energy to adjust, to endure, to conceal.

Suddenly, Duo is not sure his reserves are so endless after all.

Slightly shaken by this sudden epiphany, Duo pulls his black cap down over his eyes. He notices that his hands are steady. He tells himself he is in control. After all, that is his _duty_ as a Keeper.

But not for the first time, Duo feels something is... off. In the past six months, he has endured the subtle tension of something that is misaligned in his life... in his _soul._ He looks from Trowa to Heero as they finish suiting up in silence and knows that whatever mis-calibration of energies that is causing the pain and exhaustion is not coming from Heero and Trowa. How can it when Duo _knows_ with every fiber of his being that the three of them are _meant_ to be together?

For a moment, he considers sharing his murky insights with them. He opens his mouth – even draws in a breath – but hears himself say instead, "We still on schedule, Heero?"

Heero checks the digital screen on his watch and nods. Trowa finishes securing his own spare ammunition clips and looks up at Duo. And in that instant of Heero's apparent control and Trowa's calm, he feels it; their need to be reassured overrides Duo's sudden observations of their bond.

He moves toward them, unable to ignore this call. His fingers sift through Trowa's hair and settle at the back of his neck. His other hand reaches for Heero's wrist and pulls him closer until he can press his palm against the small of his back. He stands here, comforting his soul mates in silence and promises himself that after this assignment is finished, he will have to tell them what is happening to him. He will have to find the right words to explain that he had, quite possibly, initiated The Oath incorrectly. He will have to tell them the truth: he does not have the answer to the phenomenon of his own exhaustion. But he's willing to bet that the Bedouin will.

Sensing both Heero's and Trowa's renewed focus, he removes his hands from them and double checks the fit of his vest one last time. Gathering his concentration, Duo softly assumes command, "Let's move out."

**End of Chapter Five**


	6. Six

**Savor the Darkness**

**- Six -**

**"We are now _in transit,_"** Wufei announces as he backs out of his parking space.

Quatre chuckles from the passenger seat and Wufei almost shivers at how dark that expression of mirth sounds. "I can see that." There's a slight pause and the humor vanishes. "And since you've already determined Duo is not at his home, I suggest we head for Zanoah"

Wufei is too off-balance to conceal his surprise. After a brief hesitation, he asks very quietly, "What makes you think that's where he is?"

"I believe this is the part where I tell you about my recent experience with the Bedouin," Quatre says pleasantly.

Wufei forces himself to remain silent and accelerates out of the apartment complex.

"The easiest way to conceal a lie is between two truths," Quatre tells him. "I am a vampire: truth. Duo is resistant to my empathy: truth. Duo is capable of protecting his friends _through_ empathy..." Quatre pauses and lowers his chin in order to meet Wufei's glance eye-to-eye. "_Lie._"

Wufei's scowl deepens.

"In order to control an empath using the techniques Duo learned," Quatre explains, "he would have had to _be_ an empath. But he's not. And the Bedouin _knew_ this. Knew long before they began tutoring him. And they knew what the result would be.

"You're a Preventer agent, Wufei. You know as well as I do that there will _always_ be those who are striving for the upper hand. Even after the United Sphere Disarmament."

Wufei nods. Once.

"So if you were a power-hungry opportunist, what's better than getting your hands on large amounts of contraband weapons?" Quatre pauses but doesn't wait for Wufei to answer. "Getting your hands on a perfectly legal and _unrecognized_ weapon," he concludes.

"Duo," Wufei summarizes.

Quatre inclines his head. "And myself."

"What?" Startled, Wufei takes his eyes off of the road for an instant to gage Quatre's sincerity.

"For the last six months, I have been hiding my true progress from the Bedouin. I have been fooling them into thinking that I am their ally, that I will happily dispose of their enemies out of loyalty and undying gratitude for all they have done for me. For this second chance at life." Quatre snorts. "You'd be surprised at the anti-Preventer sentiment that's out there." With a dark scowl, Quatre tells him, "And I'm sure the Bedouin aren't the only ones who would love to see the world's strongest policing agency brought to its knees."

Skeptical, Wufei demands, "Exactly how were they going to use you to accomplish this?"

Quatre arcs his brows. "I am a vampire," he repeats very deliberately. "I have the power to kill. I am also an empath. I have the power to heal."

Wufei says nothing.

Doggedly, Quatre demands, "Do you think you would have figured out that another human being was slowing draining you to the point of death over a period of months if Duo hadn't shoved it in your face?"

Reluctantly, Wufei has to admit Quatre has a point. He addresses the other object of their discussion, "So why would they want Duo if he isn't an empath?"

Voice softer, almost reverent, Quatre says, "Duo is _very_ powerful even if he is ill-suited for empathic techniques. And your inquisition into exactly _how_ he encountered and convinced Heero and Trowa to join him brought a lot of attention to him.

"That was why I couldn't wait any longer. The Bedouin had planned that Duo would return to them. He'd have to in order to try to fix the imbalance that Owning Heero and Trowa was destined to cause. But then they found out that another agency had found out about him and was planning to... acquire him."

"Not Zanoah" Wufei mutters doubtfully.

"Yes. Zanoah"

"But that's a–"

"Preventers base. Yes. I know."

A moment of silence echoes between them as Wufei tries to decide if he can trust this information. He wonders if he dares discount it, especially in the wake of his most recent vision. Reluctantly, Wufei turns his mind away from this for the moment and concentrates on rounding off their conversation.

"So if Duo isn't an emapth, what the hell _is _he?"

Quatre smiles. "Amazing, Wufei. He's absolutely amazing... Do you know what 'astroprojection' is?"

Wufei shakes his head.

"It's the phenomenon of being able to separate one's mind from one's body during sleep and traveling across any conceivable distance."

Wufei feels his jaw sag. "You're... not about to tell me Duo can do this, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Quatre assures him. "Astroprojection is not a recognized extraordinary ability. There's actually quite a bit of debate as to whether there's any validity in it. No, Duo doesn't go _outside_ of his body while he's asleep. He's capable of far more than that."

Abruptly, Quatre shifts his approach, "Do you remember – during the war – how pathetically easy it was for Duo to infiltrate the enemy? How he had a natural gift for stealth ops?"

Wufei nods, wondering where in the hell this is all going.

Quatre shakes his head, bemused, "I can't believe it took me so long to figure it out. Adding his natural talents at going completely undetected, his constant and unwavering energy, and his ability to resist my unconscious attempts to harvest that energy..." Again, a brief pause expands and Quatre takes a deep breath in order to mute his enthusiasm. "Duo could do all of that because he lacked one of the biggest factors that prevents successful stealth, induces exhaustion, and encourages empathic attacks." Grinning broadly, Quatre asks, "Can you guess what it is?"

Wufei frowns. "I do not play guessing games, Winner," he snaps even as he tries to formulate an answer to the riddle.

Quatre's grin doesn't falter. In a tone that is woven with both amazement and sobriety, he states firmly, "A body."

"W... what?"

"Duo Maxwell is a dreamwalker."

Frustrated at the sheer _weirdness_ of this conversation, Wufei snaps, "I don't know what that means, Quatre."

Seeing Wufei's uncomprehending frown, Quatre clarifies, "He does not _require_ a body, Wufei. It's, for the most part, optional. _Instinctive,_ even. In some situations – like piloting a Gundam – it's necessary. And for others – like stealth ops – it's a hindrance."

Stunned, Wufei simply concentrates on keeping his car traveling between the twin sets of lines on the highway. After several seconds, Wufei hears himself cough out: "You... you're telling me... that... that... Duo can..."

"I'm telling you that Duo is not _embodied_ like you and I are. I'm telling you that he could be the greatest thief, spy,_ and _assassin in the entire world. I am telling you that he is, quite possibly the most sought-after weapon in the entire Earth Sphere. I am telling you that the Preventers want him very badly, if not for their own use then to ensure he doesn't join one of the rebel factions. I am telling you that if Duo is on his way to Zanoahright now he is very likely walking into a trap. And," Quatre concludes in a bleak tone, "I am telling you that Duo is completely unaware of what he is."

And after an announcement like that, there's really only one thing to say. Too bad Wufei had already used that particular four-letter expletive not two hours ago. He really hates it when he repeats himself.

...ooo...

**Abdul gasps** at the information spilling across the screen. He's forgotten how long he'd been focusing on cracking the access codes. He is not sure of when last he slept. But what he reads now makes these paltry concerns completely fade away.

In an instant, he is up and running for the banquet hall. He passes several of his comrades along the route but doesn't stop to answer their looks of vague confusion. He stumbles into the cavernous room and pauses long enough to catch his breath.

Before him, the wilted posture of their commander huddles over the various maps and communications printouts. "Sir!" he wheezes when his lungs allow him the sound.

Rashid turns in his seat and watches Abdul's approach with apprehension.

"What have you found?"

"Quite a lot that explains Master Quatre's escape," he replies breathlessly. "And a bit more that suggests where he's gone..." Suddenly taken with a coughing fit, Abdul spends several moments fighting for air.

"Where?" Rashid demands, looking like he's on the verge of squeezing the information out of his second.

"Zanoah" Abdul manages.

Rashid frowns. "The Preventers base? Why would he...?"

"He's gone after Master Duo."

For a moment, Rashid simply stares at Abdul while his sleep-deprived brain sorts through all of the data he's been staring at for the past two days. Recalling Quatre's engraved message left in the window sill of his room, Rashid stands up and calmly demands, "Show me what you've found."

...ooo...

**"Ma'am!"**

"Yes, private?"

"We've just received word; Maxwell's team has breached the outer perimeter."

"Excellent. Are the teams standing by?"

"Yes, ma'am. The teams are waiting for your command."

The messenger presents a headset to his commanding officer. Slender, manicured hands accept the device and, in a moment, it is settled in place. With the flick of a switch, the channel yawns open.

"All teams, be on the alert. Target is within Zone C. Move into position with _all_ caution. Do _not_ attempt to apprehend the subjects until they have crossed into Zone A. Subjects will likely be under cover. Corner and subdue."

She watches as the green light for each extension blinks along the master console. Her orders have been received and confirmed. Her body taut with anticipation, she pulls up the security camera angles and studies the surrounding shadows for any hint of her quarry. The dreamwalker.

Although her entire body is schooled to appear perfectly calm, she is not immune to the rush of the hunt. She has been waiting for Maxwell to make his move – _this_ move. She has been anticipating it. Dreaming of it. Tasting it.

"A dreamwalker," she breathes, her breath puffing against the muted microphone arcing over her lips.

What an addition he will make to the game. Or, failing that, what a relief to know he will not be joining the resistance. The few experts in supernatural phenomenon she'd consulted had expressed concern over exactly _how _one would go about exterminating a dreamwalker, but she is confident she will find a way. Proving it becomes necessary, of course. She'd hate to waste such a valuable asset. But it will be a challenge convincing him to cooperate. She is well aware of Maxwell's fierce independence – as a former Gundam pilot, he could be nothing else. Yes, he will most certainly be a challenge.

And she does love a challenge.

"Something tells me that you will be the greatest of them all, Duo Maxwell," she murmurs, anticipation humming through her veins. "It's your move, dreamwalker. Let's just see what you can do..."

**End of _Savor the Darkness_**

**Chapter Notes:** "The easiest way to conceal a lie is between two truths" is, I _think_ from a very early episode of The X-Files. I have a vague memory of it. Maybe. Also, I have never heard of a "dreamwalker" or any person being able to do what Quatre says Duo is capable of. Sorry I can't point you in the direction of more interesting readings.

**Author's Notes:** Ah, yes. This doesn't seem to be finished, does it? Well, I've got a continuation in mind. Hopefully it goes somewhere. Feedback, including comments and constructive criticism, is what keeps me writing GW fan fics like this one and are greatly appreciated. So if you'd like to read a continuation, please let me know. Your enthusiasm is _my _enthusiasm. Thanks for reading.


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